*phhhooooooooo*
(That was me blowing the cobwebs off the ol' blog here.)
I've been kind of scarce lately.
"No, really, Diva? We hadn't noticed. Sitting here, waiting patiently for you to come along and entertain us. In fact, we may have gone looking for greener pastures. Whaddaya think of that, oh absent one?"
Well, I think it's deplorable. Not you. You're not deplorable. Why would I call you deplorable? You're the ones who've been sitting here in this cobwebby mess, probably playing spider solitaire til you're nearly cross-eyed, perhaps a random game of rock/paper/scissors with another pitiful person waiting around....
And I apologize. Sincerely.
But can I give you a run-down of the last couple weeks? Then maybe you'll be more willing to maybe offer me your bosom on which I can lay my weary head and receive the comfort I so desperately need.
Woah. Wait. I just asked you to offer me your bosom. Scratch that. This ain't that kinda blog. No bosoms. Really.
Okay, so here goes. This is my desperate attempt at gaining your sympathy (but not your bosom -- I repeat NOT YOUR BOSOM). In the past three weeks:
* Here at the ranch we hosted 20-some people for the 4th of July, which was actually on the 3rd. I was told by one sister that I am "no fun" as the host and she wasn't going to let me anymore if I was going to be that crabby.
* We hosted a second, impromptu day of shenanigans and holiday overeating on the 4th when my mom and dad, Tater, her handsome beau and the Tots spent the day with us. There was food and fireworks, a rousing game of Spoons in which my tablecloth was ripped, Abby's (now ex-) boyfriend bled and now my spoons are ten kinds of wonky.
* I got to spend a whole week with my niece and nephew, the Tots. That was heavenly.
* My son was introduced to golf and now I have TWO rednecks who look forward to Tuesdays at the Country Club like a couple of little boys hoping for a Red Ryder BB gun from Santa. While Paul is slightly more sedate, Sam bounces around like a chihuahua from the time he gets up on Tuesdays until his daddy gets home from work. Also, there has been a documented event where both of them got up before 7am on a Saturday to go play.
* We have had a big ol' camping party in the living room for a week now. For those of you non-local folks, we here in Oklahoma are in the midst of yet another Oklahoma summer, also known as HELL. Our 1,922 square foot house is cooled by one very brave window unit and does a spectacular job - until the humidity gets as high as it's gotten lately. Last Sunday it got up to 87* in our house with the thermostat set on 67*. So it was either camp out in the living room or go stay with my parents until December. Now there is an air mattress in the middle of the floor, pillows, stuffed animals and sheets everywhere, the blinds stay pulled 24/7 and the TV goes off in the middle of the day because that gigantic thing could probably power a small third-world country with the heat it puts off. Can I just say this? Momma has a slight case of MY CHILDREN ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY.
* I made my very first 911 call.
* I argued with the police dispatcher during said 911 call because when I had made a non-emergency call prior to the 911 call she wrote the address down wrong and sent the police officers a block east. Then when I called and actually had an emergency she argued that I was wrong.
* I was visited by a process server for the very first time in my life.
* During that pleasant process-serving party I received my very first subpeona to appear before a judge. And can I just take a moment to appease my inner 12-year-old? SUBPEONA SUBPEONA SUBPEONA SUBPEONA SUBPEONA *giggle* It's just fun to say because it sounds kinda dirty but it's not. SUBPEONA.
* I now have a much more sensitive BS detector.
* I have learned to rely on my God, my faith, my family and my church family in the past two weeks. God put that group of cowboys and cowgirls in my life for a reason and I am so thankful, blessed and awed.
* My youngest daughter called me "strong". I have really never thought of myself as strong, but if I can come across that way to an 8 year old who is looking to me in the midst of crisis and upside-down-edness I must be doing something right.
* And finally I have learned that sometimes while you are nervous and anxious and exhausted a late-night phone call from a friend who tells you a story about a flag-stealing midget in a pickup truck will make you laugh until your stomach hurts - and is probably the best medicine out there.
So see? I really do have valid reasons for being slighty....uh....removed from the blog the past few weeks.
Forgive me? Promise to come back if I use the word SUBPEONA more?
SUBPEONA!
Friday, July 23, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Monday MckLinky: I'm a Kitchen!
You Are Most at Home in the Kitchen
You're the type of person who finds a lot of comfort in your home.
You love to take care of yourself and others.
Your home is welcoming and open to all.
You love entertaining guests and making them feel a part of the family.
There's nothing like spending an afternoon in the kitchen,
whipping up treats for you and your loved ones.
You believe that the simple things in life can be the most enjoyable.
You like give your time and love to people.
Who knew? I'm a kitchen!
It makes sense, though - it's the room I am in CONSTANTLY.
Oh, my achin' feet.
And because it's Monday and it's summer and we're all, you know, busy housewives who are spending inordinate amounts of time in our kitchens, yeah....we did a meme thing.
So sue us.
But before you sue anyone, take the quiz yourself, go visit The Real Housewives and link up there. It's much more gratifying than suing any ol' day.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Sneezing vs. a Tornado
As you all know, we are a bit.... skittish when it comes to storms. We have a very healthy respect for them and tornados are simply a force not to be reckoned with. That being said, what's the first thing Paul and I do when the weather starts looking bad? We, and every other redneck, go stand in the yard and watch the clouds roll in and hope we see the twister.
Yesterday when Paul got home he said he and a bunch of friends from work were going to go play golf. It was totally fine by me since I had spent the whole day in my pajamas watching DVR'd episodes of "The OCD Project" on VH1 with a few Tosh.0's sprinkled in to make me laugh after having bawled through watching those folks with OCD battle their disorder. I figured if I let him go play golf without batting an eye he would be far less likely to notice the Barbies scattered around the living room, my ladybug pajama pants still on my body and the dishes in the sink.
I was totally right. He came in, changed clothes and left again with nary a harsh word. Score!
Before he left, with our son in tow, I told him there was some stormy weather rolling in and to keep an eye on the skies. He nodded and off they went. He called me about 20 minutes later to tell me that the Miami course was closed and they were headed to Baxter Springs, KS. I wasn't happy about that because the storms were coming in from the north, so again I reminded him to keep an eye on things and keep his cell phone within reach. He agreed and off they went again.
It's at this point in the story I should probably throw in this tidbit of information: A few weeks ago I sent Sam down to get our lawnchairs from the cellar so we could use them at a birthday party. When we unfurled them at the party I thought they smelled damp, like mold. Sam said, "Yeah, it was kind of wet down there..." and that was it. I mentioned it to Paul later that evening and he said that was strange, it had never gotten wet down there before. The next day he called me out into the yard. When I got out there he was standing at the cellar with the door open, a black-ish thing lying in the grass next to him. As I got closer I realized what it was: the mattress thing we had put down there the last time we'd gone under. It was late and the kids were tired so we laid it out in the floor for them to lie on. Paul said the entire floor of the cellar was wet, the mattress had soaked up a ton of water and was covered in mold. Apparently, someone who refuses to confess by the way, put the garden hose to the vent and .... irrigated the cellar. We have no idea who or even why, but I'm not above resorting to bamboo shoots under the fingernails to find out the culprit's identity and motive. Anyway, we left the cellar open for a few days and I kept meaning to bleach it out...."meaning to" being the operative words here.
Now on with the story....
I called Paul when we went under a severe thunderstorm warning and told him the county he was in was under one as well. He said they were on the 7th hole, the owner had already told them that at the first sign of lightning to get off the course as fast as they could and he reassured me they were paying attention to the weather. Sam called me about half hour later and said they were heading home and that daddy wanted me to know "they were right ahead of the storm."
As they pulled in it began to rain and he said he literally drove ahead of the storm. I guess he wanted me to acknowledge his storm-dodging prowess or something. I went out into the yard and immediately came back in and said, "You need to come out here with me. And kids? Find your shoes and pack a bag. We may be going underground." Paul and I went back outside and stood in various parts of the yard to see the storm from different viewpoints. As we were about 50 feet out into the field we heard a sound which caused us to look at each other, stare wide-eyed and then begin running - we heard the tornado sirens from Miami.
We live about 7 miles from the very south edge of town and only one other time have we been able to hear the tornado sirens when they've gone off. Usually the storms come in from the other way and we just don't hear them, but this time we heard them loud and clear. He ran to let the dog off the chain so he could go to the barn, I ran to the house to tell the kids to GO NOW. I grabbed my purse, cell phone and iPod (the essentials you know), decided I didn't have time for the laptop and we were out the door. I think we made it from sirens to cellar in under four minutes.
As we all stood there panting, cleaning the raindrops off our glasses and wringing out our hair, I realized I had forgotten the NOAA radio. I always bring it with us so we have some idea of what's going on in case we lose cell signal, which we sometimes do down there, but not always. I called Cousin Courtney who wasn't even in Miami, but I had forgotten that fact, and immediately felt awful for scaring the snot out of her since she's away on business and her son and husband were here, obviously under the life-threatening peril of an impending tornado. I asked the question on Facebook and Twitter, "Are the sirens going off in Miami?" and my niece and one other person responded that they had been, but they weren't any more. Then it was 9:00 and my mobile notifications go off then, so I was out of the loop from then on.
It was so hot and muggy down there that after we didn't hear from anyone that the sirens were back on, we decided to come out and go back to the house. Where there was air conditioning.
Turns out, Miami never went under a tornado warning. I'm not sure if a clumsy intern hit the switch accidentally or they were trying to be proactive or what, but it was unsettling to not know why they were going off and whether we needed to stay underground or what. Paul said he wondered if someone had called the Psychic Friends Network and were sounding the alarm because they had gotten a tip. Whatever. When it comes to the weather I would always, always rather be safe than sorry. I will take the stinky, damp, hot cellar any day over being whisked away to Oz. I mean, I think Munchkins are cute and all, but have no desire to cavort in a field of poppies with a scarecrow who would inevitably make me sneeze and a lion who would likely do the same.
Speaking of sneezing, while we saw no mold in the cellar last night, about 30 minutes after we got back into the house Abby broke out in hives. It took 50 mg of Benadryl to give her any relief. Sam and I woke up this morning with swollen eyes, a runny nose and both sneezing our heads off. Abby's still hive-a-licious and Kady had to use her inhaler. Methinks the mold was of the invisible variety.
So now....I'm taking volunteer applications from whoever wants to come help me bleach out the cellar so we don't all die from anaphylactic shock the next time we're dodging a tornado. I can't pay ya, but I'll give you some Amish bread and sweet tea. You know how to get hold of me.
Yesterday when Paul got home he said he and a bunch of friends from work were going to go play golf. It was totally fine by me since I had spent the whole day in my pajamas watching DVR'd episodes of "The OCD Project" on VH1 with a few Tosh.0's sprinkled in to make me laugh after having bawled through watching those folks with OCD battle their disorder. I figured if I let him go play golf without batting an eye he would be far less likely to notice the Barbies scattered around the living room, my ladybug pajama pants still on my body and the dishes in the sink.
I was totally right. He came in, changed clothes and left again with nary a harsh word. Score!
Before he left, with our son in tow, I told him there was some stormy weather rolling in and to keep an eye on the skies. He nodded and off they went. He called me about 20 minutes later to tell me that the Miami course was closed and they were headed to Baxter Springs, KS. I wasn't happy about that because the storms were coming in from the north, so again I reminded him to keep an eye on things and keep his cell phone within reach. He agreed and off they went again.
It's at this point in the story I should probably throw in this tidbit of information: A few weeks ago I sent Sam down to get our lawnchairs from the cellar so we could use them at a birthday party. When we unfurled them at the party I thought they smelled damp, like mold. Sam said, "Yeah, it was kind of wet down there..." and that was it. I mentioned it to Paul later that evening and he said that was strange, it had never gotten wet down there before. The next day he called me out into the yard. When I got out there he was standing at the cellar with the door open, a black-ish thing lying in the grass next to him. As I got closer I realized what it was: the mattress thing we had put down there the last time we'd gone under. It was late and the kids were tired so we laid it out in the floor for them to lie on. Paul said the entire floor of the cellar was wet, the mattress had soaked up a ton of water and was covered in mold. Apparently, someone who refuses to confess by the way, put the garden hose to the vent and .... irrigated the cellar. We have no idea who or even why, but I'm not above resorting to bamboo shoots under the fingernails to find out the culprit's identity and motive. Anyway, we left the cellar open for a few days and I kept meaning to bleach it out...."meaning to" being the operative words here.
Now on with the story....
I called Paul when we went under a severe thunderstorm warning and told him the county he was in was under one as well. He said they were on the 7th hole, the owner had already told them that at the first sign of lightning to get off the course as fast as they could and he reassured me they were paying attention to the weather. Sam called me about half hour later and said they were heading home and that daddy wanted me to know "they were right ahead of the storm."
As they pulled in it began to rain and he said he literally drove ahead of the storm. I guess he wanted me to acknowledge his storm-dodging prowess or something. I went out into the yard and immediately came back in and said, "You need to come out here with me. And kids? Find your shoes and pack a bag. We may be going underground." Paul and I went back outside and stood in various parts of the yard to see the storm from different viewpoints. As we were about 50 feet out into the field we heard a sound which caused us to look at each other, stare wide-eyed and then begin running - we heard the tornado sirens from Miami.
We live about 7 miles from the very south edge of town and only one other time have we been able to hear the tornado sirens when they've gone off. Usually the storms come in from the other way and we just don't hear them, but this time we heard them loud and clear. He ran to let the dog off the chain so he could go to the barn, I ran to the house to tell the kids to GO NOW. I grabbed my purse, cell phone and iPod (the essentials you know), decided I didn't have time for the laptop and we were out the door. I think we made it from sirens to cellar in under four minutes.
As we all stood there panting, cleaning the raindrops off our glasses and wringing out our hair, I realized I had forgotten the NOAA radio. I always bring it with us so we have some idea of what's going on in case we lose cell signal, which we sometimes do down there, but not always. I called Cousin Courtney who wasn't even in Miami, but I had forgotten that fact, and immediately felt awful for scaring the snot out of her since she's away on business and her son and husband were here, obviously under the life-threatening peril of an impending tornado. I asked the question on Facebook and Twitter, "Are the sirens going off in Miami?" and my niece and one other person responded that they had been, but they weren't any more. Then it was 9:00 and my mobile notifications go off then, so I was out of the loop from then on.
It was so hot and muggy down there that after we didn't hear from anyone that the sirens were back on, we decided to come out and go back to the house. Where there was air conditioning.
Turns out, Miami never went under a tornado warning. I'm not sure if a clumsy intern hit the switch accidentally or they were trying to be proactive or what, but it was unsettling to not know why they were going off and whether we needed to stay underground or what. Paul said he wondered if someone had called the Psychic Friends Network and were sounding the alarm because they had gotten a tip. Whatever. When it comes to the weather I would always, always rather be safe than sorry. I will take the stinky, damp, hot cellar any day over being whisked away to Oz. I mean, I think Munchkins are cute and all, but have no desire to cavort in a field of poppies with a scarecrow who would inevitably make me sneeze and a lion who would likely do the same.
Speaking of sneezing, while we saw no mold in the cellar last night, about 30 minutes after we got back into the house Abby broke out in hives. It took 50 mg of Benadryl to give her any relief. Sam and I woke up this morning with swollen eyes, a runny nose and both sneezing our heads off. Abby's still hive-a-licious and Kady had to use her inhaler. Methinks the mold was of the invisible variety.
So now....I'm taking volunteer applications from whoever wants to come help me bleach out the cellar so we don't all die from anaphylactic shock the next time we're dodging a tornado. I can't pay ya, but I'll give you some Amish bread and sweet tea. You know how to get hold of me.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Monday MckLinky: What Are Your Strange Remedies?
When Mrs. Sinclair announced she was using this for a topic I got all kinds of giddy. I love, love hearing other people's home remedies and unusual methods for doing something, more than likely because their momma did it that way and their momma's momma did it that way.
So it got me to thinkin'.....what are some of the things my mom, Nana, Memaw, Granny and other wise sages in my life have taught me...... Hmmm....
***************
When I was a kid I can remember my mom running a diaper pin through her hair before she'd pin a diaper. I thought it was absolutely crazy - until that day I needed to pin a diaper and it wouldn't go easily through the material. I kind of looked around to see if anyone was looking (like, who was going to be spying on me in my living room) and then ran that dang pin through my hair a few times. Voila! Easy peasy.
Of course, no one uses diapers with pins anymore. Even if they use cloth diapers they have those fancy schmancy diaper covers now. Whippersnappers.
***************
My Granny Glenn was a firm believer in the merits and values and absolute healing properties of tea tree oil. If you had a headache you got a fingertip dabbed in tea tree oil dotted in the middle of your forehead. Mosquito bites, rashes, dandruff, athlete's foot, any affliction or ailment also warranted a good dousing in the ol' TTO, as Rachael Ray would call it if she were all into plant oils for something other than cooking.
I always have a bottle of it in my cabinet.
Put a few drops in your shampoo and it will keep the lice away. Seriously. I learned that when I worked at DHS. *shudder* (Anyone else's head itching now?)
****************
Everyone knows about putting a past of baking soda on bee stings, but I think it's an Oklahoma thing to put chewing tobacco on them. Wintergreen Skoal works best. The first time I got stung - and I remember it as vividly as if it were yesterday - I screamed, threw myself on the ground and sat on my hand to keep my dad from putting chew on it. I really don't know why. Sitting on it hurt, the Skoal would've felt better. Also, the spanking I got wouldn't have been necessary either.
****************
Papa always blew cigarette smoke in your ear if you had an earache. I'm thinking that 4 out of 5 pediatricians would scream, "OH MY GOSH DON'T DO THAT!" but hey, it worked when I was a kid.
****************
Memaw always said if you stepped on a nail to soak your foot in kerosene. Better hope you don't have an earache while you're soaking that foot...
****************
And finally.....I saved the best for last......
My mother-in-law swears by coffee enemas. Not for constipation, but just for general health. She says they will just make you feel better from head to toe.
Uhm....I can think of one place that would not feel better if I did a coffee enema....
****************
So, because Mrs. Sinclair asked now I want to know, too -- what are your strange home remedies?
Answer in a post on your own blog, then post it in the MckLinky on The Real Housewives of Oklahoma and let us all partake of the wisdom you behold. I mean, I shared with you about a cuppa joe up your old kaboozie, surely you can think of something.
1. Answer the question on your blog (or in the comments sections if you don't have a blog).
2. If you answer the question on your blog, add your name to MckLinky so that we all can discover the brilliance that is your mind.
3. Grab our button from the sidebar and post it either in your reply post or on your blog.
4. Enjoy and have some fun!
So it got me to thinkin'.....what are some of the things my mom, Nana, Memaw, Granny and other wise sages in my life have taught me...... Hmmm....
***************
When I was a kid I can remember my mom running a diaper pin through her hair before she'd pin a diaper. I thought it was absolutely crazy - until that day I needed to pin a diaper and it wouldn't go easily through the material. I kind of looked around to see if anyone was looking (like, who was going to be spying on me in my living room) and then ran that dang pin through my hair a few times. Voila! Easy peasy.
Of course, no one uses diapers with pins anymore. Even if they use cloth diapers they have those fancy schmancy diaper covers now. Whippersnappers.
***************
My Granny Glenn was a firm believer in the merits and values and absolute healing properties of tea tree oil. If you had a headache you got a fingertip dabbed in tea tree oil dotted in the middle of your forehead. Mosquito bites, rashes, dandruff, athlete's foot, any affliction or ailment also warranted a good dousing in the ol' TTO, as Rachael Ray would call it if she were all into plant oils for something other than cooking.
I always have a bottle of it in my cabinet.
Put a few drops in your shampoo and it will keep the lice away. Seriously. I learned that when I worked at DHS. *shudder* (Anyone else's head itching now?)
****************
Everyone knows about putting a past of baking soda on bee stings, but I think it's an Oklahoma thing to put chewing tobacco on them. Wintergreen Skoal works best. The first time I got stung - and I remember it as vividly as if it were yesterday - I screamed, threw myself on the ground and sat on my hand to keep my dad from putting chew on it. I really don't know why. Sitting on it hurt, the Skoal would've felt better. Also, the spanking I got wouldn't have been necessary either.
****************
Papa always blew cigarette smoke in your ear if you had an earache. I'm thinking that 4 out of 5 pediatricians would scream, "OH MY GOSH DON'T DO THAT!" but hey, it worked when I was a kid.
****************
Memaw always said if you stepped on a nail to soak your foot in kerosene. Better hope you don't have an earache while you're soaking that foot...
****************
And finally.....I saved the best for last......
My mother-in-law swears by coffee enemas. Not for constipation, but just for general health. She says they will just make you feel better from head to toe.
Uhm....I can think of one place that would not feel better if I did a coffee enema....
****************
So, because Mrs. Sinclair asked now I want to know, too -- what are your strange home remedies?
Answer in a post on your own blog, then post it in the MckLinky on The Real Housewives of Oklahoma and let us all partake of the wisdom you behold. I mean, I shared with you about a cuppa joe up your old kaboozie, surely you can think of something.
1. Answer the question on your blog (or in the comments sections if you don't have a blog).
2. If you answer the question on your blog, add your name to MckLinky so that we all can discover the brilliance that is your mind.
3. Grab our button from the sidebar and post it either in your reply post or on your blog.
4. Enjoy and have some fun!
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